The quilt is black and white and laced with red. A big red bean bag chair sits in the corner. Untouched. A Red Sox poster hangs on one wall..on another is a collection of photographs - he and his buddies throughout the years.
It's neat. It's clean. The bed is perfectly made. Everything is exactly as it always is..and in its right place.
It's one of the many rooms in this house that remains mostly empty. One that was once filled with laughter and light and growing pains.
I went in there this morning - just checking that all is in order. My firtborn baby - now quite grown up - will be coming home for a few short days.
I stopped..sat down on the bed..took one deep breath. Sad. Happy. Nostalgic. Wistful. Caught - for a moment - in a memory. Everything is so much the same as it was when he was younger..and yet - it's not. Things - his things - were simply left. As they were. As they still are. A boy interrupted...grown into a young man.
Strong..tall...handsome. Successful and independant. He'll be returning and re-visiting his childhood space. An adult in his own life..a child - forever - in mine.